


His religion.

by spiffycups



Category: Baahubali (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-22 17:54:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21080669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiffycups/pseuds/spiffycups
Summary: Smut





	His religion.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MayavanavihariniHarini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MayavanavihariniHarini/gifts).

> Smut

There was a very curious mechanical device in the bedchambers of Devasena and Baahubali. It was a round box, of 28 sticks stuck circularly. This box was hung from the ceiling and would rotate each day, by moving one stick. A whole cycle, noted by the varying gradients of the sticks, moving from white to red was meant to remind Devasena to prepare herself, and Amarendra to remind himself, to make an effort to be nicer as the red days came nearer.

Right now the box was a coy pink.

The princess was pink too, but decidedly not coy. 

"Holy flowers, what's your tongue made of!" she rasped, grasping the bedsheets tighter and tighter as her husband smirked from further down. He looked a damn sight, head between her legs, her knees pressing his head farther away and then pulling him back down as Devasena tried to decide what she wanted. It was not of much use though, as her decisions did not hold a candle to her husband's shoulder strength, nor his taut biceps holding her hips the way he wanted, where he wanted.

He offered up a hand, stroking her right nipple, fingers teasing and pinching the dark nub. She writhed some more, trying to move her chest away but keep her hips right there.

As he settled himself more comfortably, head partially resting on her thigh as he put the other hand to work, Baahubali looked up and smiled brightly. She fell in love all over again. He observed the shyness growing on her smile, and dipped his head back in. Devasena grasped his hand on her chest and held on for life, eyes screwed shut.

He bit lightly on her vulva, teeth grazing against soft skin. He moved his head up to her clitoris, keeping his teeth lightly on the outside while his tongue gently flicked the peeping nub. Her answering gasp sent all his blood straight to his cock. He liked appreciation, and she wasn't one to withhold praise. She thrust her hips up into his face, catching some of the wetness onto his beard. Baahubali pulled her closer and shifted her legs to stay open, and licked a long firm line down from her butt all the way up to her clit, stopping just short of it. He did this five times over and she sounded near tears. He could feel some of the wetness dripping from her thick labia onto his chin. He gripped her clit with his lips, sucking hard and occasionally using his tongue, and put his free hand against her thigh, dragging his nails dully against her legs. 

Devasena liked pain with her pleasure. It took a lot for her to feel any pain, after years of tough training as a warrior. Good for her he had even more of a tolerance and could guess just how much of force was required on her. Her handmaidens' efforts to keep her skin soft and supple had yielded results, but the muscles under her skin were hard and could resist a lot of force. 

He had spent years learning her weak points, and she his. He dragged his hand up until her vulva, then bypassed it completely, squeezing her firm butt, spanking whatever he could reach. His tongue was lightly licking the entrance to her vagina, dipping occasionally a one-eighth inside her, and withdrawing. His other hand was held over her breast, the fingers moving across her nipples like he was playing a harp.

"Please, please, fuck me, please", she was chanting over and over. A prayer heard but not answered, a tiger playing with its prey.

He knew that Devasena would cry when she really could not wait anymore. That point was in the near future, but he could have his fun until then.

Baahubali moved his hand to the front and lightly teased the entrance, rubbing the small opening, massaging it.

"Please, I want something inside, anything, I can't wait anymore, I want it", wailed his wife. He took his mouth off her, sitting up to let her see his face while his fingers moved in and out without commitment, just toying around.

She sat up on her elbows and trailed her eyes all over, taking in the sight. Her neck stinged a little where he had given her a hickey, and her arms ached from having been tied up behind her back hours ago but the red lines of the rope remained. The red was a sharp contrast against the pale skin of her breasts, where his hand was still flicking her poor nipple raw. Her stomach bore evidence to his orgasm- Baahubali was a man who believed that sex was meant to be a nightlong fest and little things like orgasms were just markers of time passing.

Her eyes trailed down to her hips, or whatever she could see of it. His thighs were between her legs, his knee putting pressure ensuring she could only close her legs if he allowed it. She looked up slowly, past his thighs, up to his hairy crotch where his cock sat, resting. She looked at his stomach, the shapely curve of his waist, the happy trail leading up to his sweaty muscled chest, where the silk binds had left no impression (he would never deign to be bound by rope). His shoulders and chest were covered in erratic short red stripes, the result of her nails scratching at him when she had ridden him in his lap.

But the most beautiful sight of it all was his face. That shiny, glowing happy face that was illuminated by dopamine and oxytocin still spoke volumes of love in its eyes, the nose and chin still shining wet from the oral service, the cut of his beard lending shape to his chubby face. His eyes spoke of charm, naughtiness, love and honor.

His fingers, inside her, spoke of strength, lust, and an unrelenting need to win. Her vagina still pulsed, trying to latch onto his finger that kept receding like a wave. She was trying to buck her hips, chase that small feeling of joy, clutching her pillow, using her fingers on her nipples, then her clit, but nothing worked.

Giving up all pretense of independence, she closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, letting a single tear drop fall onto the pillow. 

That was his signal. Amarendra Baahubali lay over her, put a hand behind her head, cupped it, kissed her face and finger-fucked her harder. She turned to face him, putting her hands in his hair, kissing everywhere she could, running her fingers over his waist and fucked herself back onto his fingers rhythmically.

"Will you cum for me sweetheart?" he mumbled into her ear, kissing down from her earlobe to the side of her neck, tugging gently on her hair to give herself up to him, give up control, give in to the freedom he could give her. Devasena nodded weakly, still stifling sobs. 

"Such a darling girl, my love, you want so desperately to cum for me." He phrased the order as a fact, and she found herself agreeing strongly. He shifted the angle of his wrist to pump into her, found the rough patch behind her clit and knew she was going to finish up soon. He continued nuzzling her neck and sweet-talking her. "You know you want to, you know I can give you what you need, you want to cum for me, you want to let it rip through you, let it rock you, leave you floating and flying, I can make you do that baby, now cum. for. me." He punctuated the last words with a motion of come-here against the G-spot and watched his wife scream his name , arch her back and squirt all over his hand.   
Devasena closed her eyes and fell on her back, shaking and trembling, breathing in rough harsh exhales. He stroked her hair, calling her name softly until the shaking stopped and she opened her eyes at him.

He loved watching her like this. These moments when her whole world was upended, when she was floating in bliss, when she could not speak, could barely breathe. She lost all pretenses and airs, dropped all her guards, smashed all the walls she put up around herself. It had taken months to break her down into this trusting state, and Baahubali was glad he had put in the effort. He loved her childlike eyes gazing up at him with all the trusting innocence of a clear mind, when she was agreeable to all his suggestions, when she would not analyse or question anything he said to her. So he took care to say the right things.

Lying down next to her, he pulled her head onto his arm, and stroked her back with the hand she was on top of. He kissed her forehead, mumbling "I love you, you're my best friend, I love you so much, you are so beautiful and strong" and stroked her face and neck with his free hand.

Devasena smiled up at him, full of joy, adoration and priceless shyness. She hid her face in his collarbones, breathing contentedly. He knew she would not speak for a few minutes.

Baahubali hugged his sleeping wife in a warm embrace. He knew she needed the rest. He had plans for them in an hour that she would need the strength for. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was a trial to see if I can write smut for this ship. Tell me what you think.


End file.
